


What Do You Want, Dex

by mvtthewmurdvck



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:22:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16862755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvtthewmurdvck/pseuds/mvtthewmurdvck
Summary: This is an archived piece originally posted on the tumblr,mvtthewmurdvck.





	What Do You Want, Dex

Dex had a few touches that meant something more than hand holding.

There was the firm hold of your hand, the steering movement that accompanied it that screamed he was protecting you. Even if your un-FBI eyes didn’t see a single threat. 

Then the soft hold, the gentle looping of your fingers, where you would find his eyes staring at your joined hands as though the entire thing was a surprise it was evening happening. This was a happy him, a relaxed him. 

Finally, there was a lingering touch. The soft stroke of his finger tracing down from your wrist to your middle finger. Dex was delicate, precise when he wanted  _you_  to know what  _he_  wanted. And this gesture meant he wanted you. 

When his hand smoothed across yours while you were out, his finger slowly tracing along the back of your palm, his eyes fixed on yours, you knew you were done for already. You could feel it bubbling inside of you, the adrenaline beginning to kick in as you clenched your thighs together to try and dull the ache growing between them. 

Dex asked for the bill as you coyly drained your glass with a smirk. He watched you like a hawk, unable to take his eyes off of you, and it thrilled you. Some would say he was intense, especially he watched you, but you found yourself rather liking it. You liked how his pupils grew in size as he watched you do something menial or how he remembered  _every_  single  _thing_  you said, although not so much when you argued. 

It didn’t take long to get back to your place, he preferred it as he said so often; Dex liked how warm and homely it felt. You never pushed, although you wanted too, never wanting to push him, not when he had been so honest about himself. You were happy, both of you, and you preferred living in a happy bliss than an angry one. The first time you had argued, you had wanted to run, his anger like nothing else, but when you placed a hand on his cheek, hoping it would calm him, you were surprised to find it did, watching him fall to his knees pressing his forehead into your stomach. The words that rolled past his lips then, the devasting honesty of what he was dealing with, broke your heart, and you moved to your knees, never taking your palm off his cheek. 

“I’ve got you, Dex,” you had whispered, and his eyes met yours with a pained look that made you forget what you had even fought about. “I promise.” 

You didn’t need to say that so much recently, he seemed to know. Dex was able to read you, understand you better, and while once you had felt like a project, now you felt like a person. He knew what you liked, and proved it often just like now as his lips were on the back of your neck. Your palm was against your front door as he brushed your hair to the side, rolling his hips into your back as his hands grazed over your hips. The feeling of the silk of your dress against your stomach, his touches mirroring on either side of you, and you stumbled with the keys, trying desperately to unlock the door, becoming thoroughly distracted by his touches, both firm and soft. 

The sound of the click, you spun on your heels, turning in his arms as you threw your arm around his neck, desperately kissing him as though you had been starved. He didn’t put up a fight, zero resist coming from him as you both awkwardly walked into your apartment. 

You threw your keys on the kitchen counter when you entered, pulling off your coat and the New York chill with it. When you finally turned, the same look in Dex’s eyes at the restaurant had returned, and your lips curled slowly into a smile. He moved closer, quietly, almost far too precise to be real, and then he was there, in front of you, barely any space between you. Your heart thumped, loud as you took a deep breath, noticing the length of his eyelashes and the darkening of his eyes. 

Like every time, you placed your hand on his cheek, smoothing your thumb over him as he curled into your touch, and in a flash, his mouth was on yours. The kiss was cautious, almost too soft at first to be really Dex in front of you, and far too short as he pulled back, looking at you for a blessing or acknowledgement.

You nodded like you always did, and his arms wrapped around your waist, your back suddenly pressed against your kitchen wall as your lips met in a fiery, impulsive kiss. You let your free hand run through his hair, something Dex had hated at first—the feeling of his hair moving out of place—and then he had liked it,  _really_  liked it.  He told you as much the first time, and every time since, kissing his way down your forearm to your shoulder.

You felt his teeth graze your skin, leaving fire where he touched before his teeth move to the strap of your bra, and you could feel your cheeks burning. 

“Do you want  _me_ , Y/N?” Dex whispered close to your ear, his warm breath dancing over your skin. 

Instead of replying, you brought his mouth roughly to yours, nipping his bottom lip delicately before pulling it out and releasing it. “I do. So what are  _you_  going to do about it?” 

The growl that sounded in the back of his throat made your knees weak, and Dex lifted you clean off the ground, your shoes falling to the ground as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He knew where the bedroom was, you had both been there so often together, but as he carried you, brushing his hand up the back of your thigh, you weren’t sure you could wait so long. further worsened when his palm gently traced up your leg, bringing the dress up with it as his brow arched. 

“You are a  _bad_  girl, Y/N,” Dex spoke against your jaw, rested his hand against your bare cheeks.  

It could have been his words, but adrenaline was coursing through you, the light stubble of his beard grazed against your skin, and your gasps and mews as he kneaded your rear before you found yourself pressed against your closed bedroom door with a slam. You knew he would never hurt you, even if on occasion he had lost his temper when you were around, somewhere deep down, you knew you were safe with him. Of course, there had been times, early on when you two were  _figuring_ one another out, that he made you think twice, made you question if he was the  _right person_  for you. But eventually, he won your trust, he won your heart. And while you knew it would leave a mark when your back met the door, the assault of his lips down your neck told you that it  _probably_  wouldn’t be the only one.

You could feel his taut muscles under the shirt, your hands tugging at his shirt, trying to free it from the trousers keeping you both apart. Dex was always cleanly dressed, always dressed to a high standard. There was never a part of him out of place, and while you had teased him that it must take a lot of effort, he always brushed it off, while you secretly admired him for it. You wanted to rip the shirt apart, spread buttons around your home, but you refrained, staring darkly into his eyes as he watched you cautiously.

His forehead met yours, even in the darkness of your apartment; you knew his eyes were now blacker than his morning decaf-coffee, and an ache grew between your thighs. With one arm, he pulled you from the door, connecting your lips together once more as he strode the two of you towards the perfectly made bed. The one that, soon enough, would be a mess, with sheets and pillows everywhere. 

Dex dropped you on the end of your bed, a small bounce occurring as he ripped his tie from his neck. Your dress had risen to the top of your thighs, but you made no effort to pull it down; you wanted him to see how bare you were, how there was no cotton or lace between those thighs. He stared at you, begging you to say something, to do something, but you did neither. You turned your head to the side, moving your hands down his chest as you slowly, almost painfully opened each button at a time as he slowly sunk to his knees. 

“Look at me,  _Y/N_.” His fingers meeting your chin, pulling your eyes to his. “I want to make you feel good.  _Really_  good..” Your eyes softened, watching him slowly as his lips curled into a sneer. “I want to make you…”

His voice trailed off you felt his finger slide over your bare slit in a long but slow line. Your back arched, a whimper passing your lips before Dex repeated the action, and you hated how much you wanted him already, the act both teasing and egging you on as you moved your legs a little wider.

“…Feel so  _good_ ,” he continued. Dex’s breath remained calm as he kissed the side of your knee. 

He deliberately, and slowly, working his way up to your thigh before he blew a breath against your core. His teeth nipped at your inner thigh, once, twice, before kissing it softly, almost too gently for him. The lull of his kindness was a move, you realised only when his finger moved to your clit, circling twice before his hand grasped your other thigh. You moaned—one that couldn’t be taken back—and without seeing his mouth between your legs, you knew he was smirking.

He was always smirking with you, and its what drove you. It had you gripping the bedding between your fingers, it had your eyes closed, chin pointing at the ceiling as you tried to focus on anything but how good it felt. He touched you in every place you needed, without even speaking. He knew the exact moment to slide another finger within you, and he knew when to place his mouth against your collarbone as he pumped in and out, driving you so close to the edge you were sure you would tumble. 

Dex never let you fall, his hold on your hip reminding you that even if you saw stars, you would come back to earth. He wouldn’t be done with you. 

“You’re  _everything_ ,” Dex murmured. 

Your eyes focusing on your light, your mouth open as you tried to find breath, not wanting to scream and piss off your neighbours, but his thumb was circling you. Your brows furrowed as you concentrated, and all you wanted to plead was for him not to stop, not when you were so close, not when the white light suddenly began to brighten, and brighten, and brighten… 

“Oh,  _fuck_ , Dex,” you moaned, your legs shaking as you tensed around his fingers, resting your palms on the bed as you tried not to fall apart, even as his eyes looked at you hungrily. 

His hand slowly moved from between your thighs, and you felt a hand push up your dress over your chest. “ _Dex_ ,” you tried to say through ragged breaths. 

You slid his belt out of the buckle as he moved closer on his knees as you placed a hand on his neck, bringing your mouths together sloppily. You were still trembling as the bedroom air fell over your bare skin; he let out a shaky breath as you slowly pulled the zip of his trousers down, and freeing him. The restraints of his underwear hadn’t done well of keeping him contained, and your eyes gazed over the head of his cock. Tracing your palm down his stomach as he made some low-groans, your finger looping in the band of his boxers. 

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, standing up between you before he hooked your knee with his arm, and knelt between you on the bed, carefully pushing you onto your back as he hovered above you. “You are.” 

Your lips met, and you ran your fingernails down his back. “What do  _you_  want, Dex?” 

You felt him line himself up, and he brushed your hair from your face. “You.” 

There was little time to think before he entered you, pushing into you in one fluid motion. You both elicited a moan, his hand gripping the back of your thigh as you brought your hand to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead against yours. His hand brushing over your breast, his thumb sliding over your nipple, and a pool broadened in your stomach, a  _guttural_ , hushed moan passed your lips that made his hips snap against yours. 

“Good, because you’re  _everything_  to me too,” you moaned, stretching around him.

If he was surprised by your words, he didn’t show it. Instead, Dex began to move his hips sensually, every fibre of you trembling from your high and what was to come. 

You wanted him more than you ever had. You  _needed_  his body against yours, imprinting your skin. 

“I’m yours,” you panted. 

Dex pulled out slowly, nearly all the way before you caught a twinkle in his eyes and a coy smile on his lips. “You’re mine, Y/N.” 

And then he pushed inside of you, far rougher than before. Dex filled you more completely than he had done previously, and any thoughts you would have had were lost to moans that became stolen by his. Both of your lips bumping into one another’s, both too close to the edge, movements becoming erratic. Every thrust of his made you want to come apart; every groan that vibrated through him made you want to let go. Watching Dex, who tried so hard to remain poised, lose himself was the biggest turn on—and you couldn’t  _even_  tell him, it would ruin it for him. He liked to be perfect, all the damn time. 

You felt your walls begin to clench around him, the sound of his hips slamming into your and the way his hands held you against him made the two of you groan as your release grew closer and closer. You were a mess, your cheeks burning as your mouth contorted, unable to meet his any more. Your breaths were ragged, tears creeping in the corners of your eyes as he continued to thrust into you quicker, and harder.

“Y/N,” Dex groaned. 

His free hand moved to your chest, fingers spreading up the side of your neck as he wrapped strands of hair around his fingers, and you could feel he was close. His grunts were closer together, his movements more and more careless and your entire body clenched, a spark darted up your spine, a heat spreading through your thighs as every nerve erupted inside of you. 

Dex’s name becomes twisted in  _fucks_  and moans, and you barely feel the nails in the back of your thigh as he comes inside of you.

Dex continues to hold you close to him, unwilling to let you go as you trembled and your breaths continued to be heavy. Their bodies were glossed with sweat, but neither of them wanted to move because of it. Dex liked having you close, he always said as much, and you weren’t one to mind. 

He pressed his forehead to your, and your eyes closed as you felt his fingers trace in circles onto your hip. “You make me feel safe.”

Dex’s fingers wandered over your cheeks. “Good,” you replied with a smile. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is an archived piece originally posted on the tumblr, [mvtthewmurdvck](https://mvtthewmurdvck.tumblr.com/).


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